


keep the quiet, and i'll understand your every word

by simmonns



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Can be read as either platonic or romantic I guess???, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Seriously this is nothing but incredibly plotless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simmonns/pseuds/simmonns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>holiday traditions don't mean anything without your best friend (fitzsimmons oneshot, post-midseason finale).</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep the quiet, and i'll understand your every word

**Author's Note:**

> this was a very small fic written as a christmas gift for my best friend rachel, who is almost as big of a piece of fitzsimmons trash as i am. merry christmas, i hope you like it!!

“Hey, Simmons, where are… Is that the cover from your bed?”

            Jemma hadn’t expected anyone to be in this part of the base so late at night. She wheeled around at the voice, surprised to find Skye standing behind her, tablet in hand, with an expression of curiosity on her face. “Huh?” It took her a moment to register the question, but once she had she readjusted her grip on the thick blanket, and then glanced down at it. “Oh. Yes, it is.” She cleared her throat softly and then turned to keep walking, but Skye stepped in front of her, a steely determination in her eyes that made Jemma sigh inwardly. “Skye—“

            “Where are you going?” Skye was now blocking the corridor, leaning towards Jemma slightly with her hands on either wall and her eyes narrowed, curls falling over her shoulders. “You don’t look so great.”

            Jemma rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Skye,” She insisted, exasperation creeping into her tone. “It’s just Christmas Eve.”

Skye gave her a confused look, and Jemma remembered that Skye didn’t know what that meant, so she added, “I, um… Fitz and I, we used to have Doctor Who marathons every Christmas Eve. There’s no television in my bunk anymore, so I’m going out to the common area.”

            “Ooh.” Skye leaned out around Jemma, looking behind her. “Is Fitz with you?”

            Jemma winced. _Shouldn’t have brought up Fitz._ She loved Skye, but if there was one thing she didn’t want to talk about with her friend, it was Fitz. “No. He’s not. We’re not really…” She shook her head. “No.”

            Skye frowned hesitantly. “…All right. You sure you’re okay?” She looked her over worriedly.

            “Of course I am, Skye.” Jemma hugged the blanket to her chest, brushed a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, and moved around the other agent to continue down the hall. “Happy Christmas.”

            “Merry Christmas to you, too,” Skye called after her. A moment later, Jemma heard her friend’s footsteps going in the other direction.

\--

            She only made it five minutes into ‘Blink’ before she was interrupted.

            “Hey.” The voice came from behind her. Jemma prided herself on being difficult to frighten (usually), but the weeping angels were creepy when she was all alone, and so the sudden noise almost made her jump out of her skin. She whirled around, expecting to see Skye or maybe Bobbi, but instead it was Fitz, looking nervous, with two SHIELD mugs in his hands.

            “Fitz!” She wasn’t sure why she felt as surprised as she did. Maybe he’d even had the same idea as her, and had come in expecting to watch Doctor Who by himself, like she had. That didn’t explain the two mugs, though. She cleared her throat. “Sorry, you surprised me. How are you?”

He nervously held up one of the two mugs, and Jemma caught a faint whiff of hot chocolate. “I, um…” He faltered for a moment. “Skye said you were in here.”

            “Oh.” Jemma sat there for a second before she realized she was staring and shook her head to clear her mind. “Sorry, yeah. Yeah.”

            He took a step forward into the room, and held out one of the mugs. “Here. This is… You. For you.”

            The beginnings of a smile crept across her face, and she reached over the back of the couch to take the mug. “Thank you, Fitz.” The ceramic was warm under her fingers. “Do you want to sit down?”

            His gaze flickered from her to the television, and then back again. “Yeah! Yeah, sure. Is that, um…”

            “Weeping angels?” Jemma nodded as he came around the couch and sat down next to her, nudging her blanket to the side and practically pressing himself against the cushions to keep an easy foot or two between them. She tried to ignore the way her stomach knotted up at that. “Yes, sorry. I know you don’t like them, but…” She trailed off and cleared her throat. _I didn’t expect you to be here._

            Fitz shrugged as he stared at the screen. “Yeah, well, it’s not the episodes I don’t like so much as—“

            “—as the theory behind the angels themselves, I know.” Jemma glanced over at him as he scratched nervously at the stubble on his jaw, though she thought she could see the faint hint of a smile on his lips. “You don’t like the idea that—“

            “—that something like that could exist around us and we wouldn’t have any way of knowing about it. Yeah.” He wrapped his fingers around his cup but didn’t drink any. On the screen, Sally Sparrow was about to meet Cathy’s grandson. Jemma had seen the episode a dozen times already, so she took another sip of the hot chocolate and offered Fitz the other half of her blanket. He shrugged but didn’t say anything, so she tossed it over him and pulled her feet up onto the couch to get them off the cold cement floor.

            They both fell silent, Doctor Who the only sound in the room. Jemma was trying hard to concentrate on the episodes, but as they continued on into season five’s weeping angels, she was paying more attention to the way Fitz was relaxing beside her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell that he was slowly, probably subconsciously, moving towards the middle of the couch until they were almost as close to each other as normal. It _felt_ normal, for sure, and the sense of normalcy was almost lulling. Maybe it was the long days she’d been pulling in the lab or the sleep she’d been losing over the events of the past few months, but Jemma suddenly found herself feeling sleepy. By the end of ‘Flesh and Stone’ _,_ she could hardly keep her eyes open.

            Eventually, she was faintly aware of Fitz taking the remote off the table and starting one of the Christmas specials up. Her head kept lolling to the side, but every time her shoulder bumped Fitz’s it jolted through her like electric shock and she would start awake and straighten up again.

            After the fifth or sixth time it happened, Fitz finally cleared his throat, and she felt him bump her shoulder lightly. “You know, if you want to, you can… I mean, I don’t mind.”

            “Oh.” She glanced over, and he didn’t meet her gaze but the ghost of a smile flickered over his features when he spoke. She tried to hide the way it made her heart fill with warmth. “Thank you.” She let her head fall against his shoulder and yawned, still watching the tv with bleary eyes but dangerously close to sleep.

Fitz didn’t move for a second, and Jemma was worried that she’d overstepped the boundaries of their current relationship, but then he gently tilted his head against the top of hers. It was such a familiar feeling that she couldn’t stop herself from wiggling a few inches closer, pulling the blanket tighter around herself and curling up on the couch against him. She was pretty sure it pulled the blanket off of Fitz, because she heard him mutter ‘cover hog’ under his breath, drawing a sleepy laugh from her.

            At some point, though she was too drowsy to be sure exactly when, the episode ended. Jemma was distantly aware of Fitz turning off the television, plunging the room into almost complete darkness. Without the soft hum of the screen, everything was almost completely silent. It was peaceful, and Jemma found herself almost completely unwilling to move.

            Fitz shifted next to her. “Are you asleep?” He asked quietly.

            “Mm.”

            “Oh. Thought you were.” Fitz fell silent, but she could feel his shoulders moving with gentle breaths.

            “Do you want me to move?” In all honesty, Jemma was about to fall asleep and she wasn’t completely sure she _could_ move at this point, but they hadn’t been this physically close in months and it felt right to ask. Inwardly, she braced herself to sit back up.

            Fitz’s reply, when it came, was the opposite of what she expected. “…No, that’s all right.”

            _Oh._ “I’m gonna fall asleep if I don’t move, you know.”

            “Don’t worry about it.”

            “Oh. Okay.” In any other case, Jemma might have questioned Fitz’s lack of aversion to the idea of her falling asleep on him, but she was too tired to really think about it. Instead, she buried her face against his shoulder and let her eyes flicker shut.

            Fitz’s head weighed heavier against hers as he let out a quiet yawn. “Happy Christmas, Jem.”

            She smiled against the sleeve of his jumper. “Happy Christmas, Fitz.”

            A moment later, she realized he was asleep.


End file.
